An older man in a Forest Service coat spoke up. “Someone cut the chain. It was open when we got here, and there were fresh tracks in the mud.”

Mason could feel Ava’s excitement at his statement. Someone had come through recently. “What made you stop right here?”

“Tracks showed a vehicle turned around here,” answered Wolf. “It makes sense for the coordinates that were given. Any other questions?” He scanned the group, and several people shook their heads. “Let’s go.”

Mason and Ava were assigned to the same group as Sanford. Their leader, Brynn, was a woman with blond hair and sparkling brown eyes. She set a steady pace in the same direction as Wolf’s group, but fifty feet to their left. A third group was to the far right of Wolf, making a wide path through the woods. Shouts of “Henley!” and shrill whistles went off every sixty seconds.

Mason watched where he put his feet. The steep slope was packed dirt with scattered ferns and fir debris from the tall trees overhead. “Were there any tracks leading into the woods?” he asked Brynn.

She shook her head. “That was the first thing we looked for. The tire tracks were apparent, but we couldn’t see that someone had actually gotten out of a vehicle.”

“Shit,” Ava muttered.

Brynn smiled Ava’s way. “As you saw, there was a lot of rock, too. Someone could have moved all the way down to the river without leaving a track.”

Mason heard the quiet roar of the river. He couldn’t see it, but he knew they’d eventually meet it at the bottom of the slope. He continued to pick his way down the hill, frustrated that he couldn’t survey and scan his surroundings unless he stopped moving. He risked a bad fall if he looked up from his foot placement. He reached out a hand and balanced against a tree, walking carefully through the brush at its roots.

“Henley!”

After each call, searchers paused briefly and listened. As they drew closer to the river, it was harder to hear. It took thirty minutes to move down the slope to the water’s edge, where he swore the temperature had dropped another five degrees.

The three groups convened and looked to Jim Wolf for instructions. The man consulted his GPS and scanned the area. “Okay, we are right on top of where we’re supposed to be. Half of us will go upriver and half down. Report in twenty minutes,” he told his leaders.

Mason and Ava moved downstream with Brynn and several men. “What if she’s on the other side of the water?” Ava asked.

Brynn paused and looked over the river. The water was fast, pounding over huge boulders as it worked its way down and out of the mountain range. The far bank was twenty yards away, but with no bridge, it might as well have been a mile.

“Let’s pray she’s not,” Brynn said. “We’d have to bring in a chopper to access the other side.” The woman studied the rushing water with an apprehensive look and shuddered. Mason didn’t blame her. The water was deadly to anyone who considered crossing. One of the Forest Service workers blew his whistle, and they all paused to listen. Then moved on.

A few minutes later Brynn halted, looking around. “Do you hear a dog?” she asked.

Mason listened hard and shook his head. He glanced at the rest of their group, who did the same thing. Brynn continued to listen. “I didn’t bring my dog. Usually she’s with me on searches, and I swear I heard her for a second.” She gave a laugh. “I’m hearing things.”

Thirty seconds later, Mason heard a bark. Judging by the heads jerking up around him, he wasn’t the only one. “I heard it!” said one of the agents. Brynn nodded and scanned the area.

“Here, boy,” she called and gave an impressive whistle with two fingers.

More barks.

“It’s up the slope,” said Ava. “Not near the river.”

Brynn changed direction, taking them back up the slope. The barking grew louder and more insistent. Brynn gave a few more whistles, which seemed to set off a flurry of barks each time.

Huffing from the uphill climb, the group moved into a clearing in time to see a dog dash away. The dog stopped, looked back at them, and ran off again.

Mason blinked. That looked like . . . It couldn’t be.

The group followed the dog, who dashed ahead again, then stopped to look back and check their progress. A black dog and a white chest. Mason was too far away, but damned if that didn’t look like his missing dog.

Jake knocked on McKenzie’s door, excitement making him almost dance. Finally. Some time alone with his girl. He’d texted her that he was on his way, but he couldn’t stay for long. He’d told his mom he was going to take a nap and to wake him if she heard anything about Henley. She and Lilian were hard at work in the kitchen, and Lucas had vanished into his home office and closed the door. Jake had walked right out the back door without anyone noticing.

He’d dressed for jogging so no one would question the sight of a teen running in jeans through the neighborhood. He had one fear—that his mom would knock on his door and find him missing. He’d have to answer for that if it happened. At least he’d left a note on his bed saying where he’d gone, so she wouldn’t panic that he’d been grabbed like Henley. She’d be pissed but not frightened. And he didn’t plan to stay for very long. He hoped he’d be back before anyone noticed.

Jake knocked on the door again and rang the doorbell. He knew she was home; he’d received a text before he’d left the house verifying that her parents were gone for a few hours. He waited a few seconds then tried the door handle. Unlocked. He pushed open the door a few inches. “McKenzie?” he yelled through the space.